Welcome to Survival of the Fittest, a RPing board loosely based off of Koshun Takami's Battle Royale, with its own unique plot and spin on the 'deadly game'. We've been around quite a while, and are now in our thirteenth year, so don't worry about us going anywhere any time soon!

If you're a newcomer and interested in joining, then please make sure you check out the rules. You may also want to read the FAQ, introduce yourself and stop by the chat to meet some of our members. If you're still not quite sure where to start, then we have a great New Member's Guide with a lot of useful information about getting going. Don't hesitate to PM a member of staff (they have purple usernames) if you have any questions about SOTF and how to get started!

Milo had been bored through most of the trek. Bored, dumb, and tired. So naturally, when they got to a decent stopping point, the first thing he'd done was pass out into a dreamless sleep.

When he woke up, the walking continued. Milo, his mental faculties working better than usual since he'd finally had a decent night's sleep that didn't involve punching horses, noted in the boredom that he'd gotten quite disgusting over the past few days. His nice suit was covered in mud, his sunglasses were cracked in at least one place, and he felt dried drool on his cheeks and chin.

This baffled Milo.

Eventually, they'd gotten closer to the sawmill, as Milo had overheard, and everyone had settled down. Milo had a vague recollection of the past few days, but most of it was a haze induced by sleep deprivation.

He vaguely remembered screeching that he was going to "skullfuck" a retarded girl, and then everything clicked. He grabbed his daypack and screamed into it at the top of his lungs. He took a deep breath, and then screamed into it again.

This was gonna be a long couple of days, if he even lasted that long.

He noticed a girl who seemed somewhat unkempt, albeit cute for a "low" person, sitting on a stump with her head in her hands and a hammer next to her, and decided to try and help his chances along a bit. He walked over, closer to her, although careful to maintain some sort of personal space- he had a hunch that he had not exactly endeared himself to her.

"Hey, uh... what in the hell have I been doing over the past couple of days? I haven't been acting like the lion-blooded demigod I am, have I?"

One day, the fabled Ragnarok will come, and as the gods descend to earth and wage war while the world dies around them, WickedIcon will lead the charge, a 12-gauge shotgun in his right hand, and a bottle of Jack Daniels in his left as he rides a steed made of fire and pain.

And the masses will look upon him and weep at the beauty of it all.

Quote:

[19:25] Hallucinogenic: it's not like i wanna put my anus on parade

Quote:

04:26MimiOH04:26MimiTHAT'S LESS BAD04:27MimiI THOUGHT SHE HAD TO JERK OFF MONKEYS

"What a helpful God-damned answer. You know, if you make it off this island you should be a fucking private investigator or something, what with your amazing deductive skills. I'm totally not being sarcastic right now, either," he said.

Time to bug the leader guy. Maybe he'll be a little more helpful.

Milo walked up to the guy who he vaguely recalled addressing as "leader-bro," and paused for a second. He then smacked himself, hard, in the face as punishment for saying "leader-bro" at any point in the past. The man appeared to be talking to someone he didn't recognize, but this was much more important as it concerned him and not them.

"Hey, uh, leader person whose name I don't know. What the actual fuck have I been doing over the past couple of days?" he asked loudly, deliberately interrupting their obviously unimportant conversation.

One day, the fabled Ragnarok will come, and as the gods descend to earth and wage war while the world dies around them, WickedIcon will lead the charge, a 12-gauge shotgun in his right hand, and a bottle of Jack Daniels in his left as he rides a steed made of fire and pain.

And the masses will look upon him and weep at the beauty of it all.

Quote:

[19:25] Hallucinogenic: it's not like i wanna put my anus on parade

Quote:

04:26MimiOH04:26MimiTHAT'S LESS BAD04:27MimiI THOUGHT SHE HAD TO JERK OFF MONKEYS

Milo was confused. Aaron had said something about a plan, pointed Milo out as being the most important person in it, and given the girl a cryptic sheet of paper that prompted her to go find an electrical wire on one of the cameras nearby and ask for gloves.

Brain cells rubbed together.

...

...

Oh fuck. Aaron's intentions became immediately obvious when he handed the girl a piece of stripped wire in addition to the gloves. They were planning to shock something, and Milo had a gut feeling that he was going to be the one getting shocked. He wasn't very bright, but even he had a feeling this was going to be really, really counterproductive.

"Whoa, what the fuck, people. I really don't get what shocking me to death is going to accomplish. I mean goddamn, I know I'm a self-absorbed cock-hydrant but I'm not that much of a self-absorbed cock-hydrant," he said, his voice quivering a little as the fear of death grew in him.

One day, the fabled Ragnarok will come, and as the gods descend to earth and wage war while the world dies around them, WickedIcon will lead the charge, a 12-gauge shotgun in his right hand, and a bottle of Jack Daniels in his left as he rides a steed made of fire and pain.

And the masses will look upon him and weep at the beauty of it all.

Quote:

[19:25] Hallucinogenic: it's not like i wanna put my anus on parade

Quote:

04:26MimiOH04:26MimiTHAT'S LESS BAD04:27MimiI THOUGHT SHE HAD TO JERK OFF MONKEYS

"Please... don't do it, I don't know who you are but I don't want to-" he sobbed, but was interrupted by a searing wall of pain as the wire touched his collar and sent nearly a thousand volts straight through his body.

Milo screamed. For once it wasn't a faked scream, because of cowardice- Milo was very nearly being shocked to death, and the electricity charred the skin around his neck, causing him unimaginable agony.

The girl pulled away, and the pain stopped as the current reached the ground. Tears streaked down Milo's face.

Milo kept screaming, unintelligibly, but was interrupted by a loud bang, similar to a firecracker going off, as the charge in the collar tore his throat open. He attempted to keep screaming, but all that came out was a quiet hiss as air escaped his exposed, ripped trachea. He clutched the blood-spurting, in disbelief and looked at the girl as he fell to his knees.

"Why?" he mouthed. There was no point trying to actually say it. Mouthing it was good enough.

Everything went black and Milo slumped over. A splash as his head landed in a pool of his own blood.

Aileen. That was her name. Yeah... we had a class together back in middle school. No wonder she hated me so much, Milo thought. Guess this is the end. There are worse ways to go out, I suppose.

One day, the fabled Ragnarok will come, and as the gods descend to earth and wage war while the world dies around them, WickedIcon will lead the charge, a 12-gauge shotgun in his right hand, and a bottle of Jack Daniels in his left as he rides a steed made of fire and pain.

And the masses will look upon him and weep at the beauty of it all.

Quote:

[19:25] Hallucinogenic: it's not like i wanna put my anus on parade

Quote:

04:26MimiOH04:26MimiTHAT'S LESS BAD04:27MimiI THOUGHT SHE HAD TO JERK OFF MONKEYS